Shaded and Shielded: Decisions
by MrQuotes
Summary: Please R&R. My take on the origins of Protoman. When an android is born with a free will, and has the capability of making his own decisions, what decisions will he make? The first decision is escape. Story starts from the time of his creation, ending bef
1. Chapter 1 Escape From Eden

**This is a Mega Man Fic that doesn't have Mega Man in it at all.  
How ironic. **

**In actuality this is a prequel to the first Mega Man story I wrote that also revolved around Protoman. Although that previous story was a one shot, I had alot of ideas running through my head in regards to Protoman's past, as well as his immediate future after my story. So this will be the first arc, and if I finish this, I will go on to the second one.**

**I hope you enjoy it... **

**Cartoon Protoman : I'm sooooooooooo evil!**

**Me: Yes Protoman... you're _very_ evil... **

**-**

**Chapter 1 - Escape From Eden **

He could barely feel himself running. Within the turmoil, and the confusion there was most of all fear. There was most defenitely no grace to his movements, and no methods to his madness. He scrambled and stumbled all over himself trying to get as far away as possible from the place he was running away from. He could still remember the sounds, and they continued to echo in his mind as if his head were an empty ballroom with music bouncing on and off the hollow walls. He could hear motors of whirring machinery. He could also recall the scraping of metal on metal as one surface tore itself into another, and most of all there were the crackling of sparks and flame. He remembered those distinctive sounds as if it were the very first things he had ever heard, and he just might have. Were they the sounds of life? Of his birth?

He had too many questions and no answers. All he knew as that he was alive somehow, and for some reason, he was afraid. His emotions attacked him from all sides. He could understand his feelings, but not knowing why he felt such a way. His running fell to a slower pace, but he couldn't keep his feet from moving. It was as if he were subconciously searching for something. His uncertainty only fueled the anxiety inside his artificial body. It took him quite some time to realize that his sporatic movements brought him to an isolated area away from the city. The trees were stacked one upon the other in an endless assembly of wood and leaf, and on top of the trees he could see the branches dancing in the wind along the melodrmatic, and frantic tempo.

He could hear the crickets chirping throughout the forest in the soon-ending dusk, but the darkness was yet to give way to the sunlight for few more hours. The more he walked, the sounds of the forest continued to follow him. His heavy footsteps pounding the ground made for a very rhythmatic base as the scenery contributed in a broken harmony complimenting his shattered and segmented memory. He could finally recall certain images of the place he ran away from, but they were not enough to create a defenitive answer. He could see the bright lamp that stood overhead his waking body. He saw the plaster walls, and the silver trays which gave way to silver tools. His memories were frozen like polaroids, and the pictures ran through his mind like a child's flipbook. This must of been his creation, and the plastered room must have been his Eden. His own conclusions only led him to more questions. It would've been better off if he had just stopped trying to remember completely.

The young and confused robot finally came to a stop when he came across a riverbank. He looked down on it, and he could finally see himself for the first time. His eyes gently approached the running waters, but he was still hesitant, shy even to his own reflection, and afraid as if it would jump out and attack him. He finally grew the courage to look himself in the eyes, and finally face whoever he was.

"This face... I don't even recognize myself."

He stared at himself a bit longer. His face gave him the assumption that he could be no older than a young teenager. With the exception of the light pinkish skin on his face, and the black hair that topped off his head, he was covered neck to toe in red and grey. His eyes were widened, and he could see that his eyes were a discolored grey as well. He didn't stop looking at the riverbank for a second. He forced himself to get use to his own face, and made sure that he would never forget who he was. His fear began to disspate, and he gained control of his senses. Though he was no longer afraid that soon gave way to slight sadness. He was still confused, but even worse he was all alone.

The robot's mind slowly developed his psyche as his self-awareness grew exponentially. He was alive, and he was aware, but he didn't know who he was. In fact, he wasn't sure if he was anyone at all to begin with. The android was simply here, in a forest in the outskirts of the main city. He was just born, but at the same time he was lucid to his existence, his conciousness, and his environment. To be brought into the world without purpose or direction was more like the punishment of a crime. His greatest enemy was his own mind, and when it matured so quickly it brought him only more anxiety. Artificial Intelligence was merely a computer in his head that processed at unspeakable speeds, and because it were a computer, and not human mind, it was not restricted to such phases as infancy and adolescence. There were no limits to the information that he could bring into himself.

It was not without irony, no matter how quickly he was able to mature his thoughts he was helpless, and unable to answer the most important questions. Who was he? Why was he here? What was he supposed to do? The waking daylight gave no further illumination to his unlikely happenstance. The sun peeked out of the trees, and the gray and red android was able to see that the once massive forest was merely a small area of woods that stood next to a vast flat field of agreen and pavement. Over the edges of the park was the city he ran away from. He didn't have the slightest idea what building he was created in. Even if he wanted to, there was no going back. He made his first decision, and that was to run away.

**xxxx**

The white cloaked man with glasses had his eyes glued on the monitor, his vantage point from the top of the trees. He could see the android clear as day on his screen. His coloring was somewhat morbid, or more possibly ominous. The robot wasn't moving or if at all very little. Its body language revealed that he was being gripped by helplessnes, and confusion shrouded his every option. It was like watching a new born child standing, walking, and talking. The old man looked at him in admiration and ambition.

"So this is the one. The self-concious android that ran away."

He read the research that Dr. Light had put forward. His attempts to create a breakthrough android. Not one that could merely communicate with humans on a service level, but one capable of learning, constructing its own linguistics. An android capable of forumulating independent inquiries. It couldn't be coincidence. It couldn't be a coincidence that just hours ago, Dr. Light alerted authorities that one of his creations had run away from his laboratory. Lo and behold, here it lie, completely within his grasp. His desire consumed him to a point where he couldn't even realize how wide a smile he had on his face. The creation was in his grasp. No one knew where it was but him, but he needed to act fast before the android could attract suspicion or attention.

"Neon, Gallium." In less than an instant, two robots materialized right in front of the old man's face.

"What is your command Dr. Torres?" They asked simultaneously.

He pointed at the robot on the TV screen. "This is your target. You have the coordinates."

Just as he finished his sentence, they were off. His words carried ambiguity, but he knew that his robots were capable of fully understanding their orders, their purpose. All the pieces were placed in his favor, and Dr. Torres had made the first move. There was only to talk to the new born android.

But first things first, he needed to be afraid.

**-**

**Wow. How about no dialogue whatsoever? Sorry, this was mainly an expository chapter. Describing the characters, the scenery, and all that good stuff they told us to describe in our creative writing classes. **

**So how did i describe Protoman? No blaster, no helmet, no shield. Why? This was Dr. Lights first android before any of the labor robots were created. There was no intention of creative a combat android, so I just came to the conclusion that none of those modifications existed at that point in time. **

**I'm not exactly sure how long this story will be. But I sorta know how it will end. So that much is good right? Any input will be apprciated, even if its bad. I know it's easier to be hated than loved.  
**

**"This face... I don't even recognize myself." **


	2. Chapter 2 Before His Eyes

**I want to thank everyone for the positive feedback I received from the people that read the story. I've put my full concentration on this story, cause I think it has potential to get pretty big. From the sound of it I did alright, I'll try to keep up the pace of the story, and update as frequently as possible. I'd say, once every week would be fair estimate as to how often I can spew these chapters out. **

**- **

**Chapter 2 - Before His Eyes**

It was already well into the next day as the life returned to the city. The park where the young android temporarily hibernated was no exception. He had considered leaving the trees to try and rejoin the crowd, but he reconsidered. Due to the fact that he was probably considered to be a runaway android, it was best to just stay out of sight completely. With the freedom to do whatever he wanted, he could've just lived in the sea of Oak and Maple for the rest of his life. He spent his time on top the heavy branch of a tree, no more than two rows into the woods staring outward into the world he ran away from.

The walkways were congested with families enjoying the climate of the midsummer day. Among the people were indeed robots, most of them there merely for assistance. He could see them rolling carriages, walking dogs, even playing with children. They could talk, but they couldn't speak, because their minds were incapable of doing so. They were made with a purpose, and lived only to fulfill that purpose. The nameless android stared at them, to him it didn't seem like they were truly alive, at least not like he was. They were man-made endentured servants, they weren't constructed with the option of doing anything other than what they were meant to do. Most importantly, they weren't designed to choose whether or not they would do what they were told.

However, even though they weren't created with choice, and they performed their tasks without question, they were still living, and functioning in a society that needed them. Perhaps that was what made them truly alive? Was purpose the essential element that created life? He couldn't help but wonder what that said about himself. The red and gray being could only stare from the outside subjectively. Was living and watching the same thing? If all he could do was watch the world like it rolled off a projector screen onto the wall, how could he be one of its characters?

He hadn't make much movement if any at all. The number of people declined as the day grew older, and the wrinkled now dark reddish orange sun submitted to its old age. As easy as he could construct philosophical inquiry within the recesses of his mind, he was still unable to find any option other than leaving his new home. He felt a bit more at ease in where he stood, now that the night was out, it draped over him like his own personal security blanket. He stepped outside the trees, onto the open fields. The blades of grass crushed under his heavy titanium steps, and the wind graced his body with the most gentle of kisses. The robot told himself he had taken these first difficult steps, the rest shouldn't seem so hard now.

**xxxx**

From a distance, no farther than two hundred yards, Neon and Gallium arrived upon the scene. They would have shown up sooner, as early as the night before, but Dr. Torres wanted to make sure he had prepared for every scenario. By the time daylight broke into the city, he concluded this operation would best be carried out under the guise of night. There was no communication between the two, for there was no reason. They had been given their orders, and all they had to do was to carry them out.

The two androids contrasted each other physically, as if the sun and moon stood side by side. A medium sized robot, Neon was far from intimidating. He stood well under two meters with an ivory colored body, but had orange colored gauntlets as well as the same colored leg armors, which carried all the way down to his feet. His counterpart Gallium on the other hand, was a towering presence that stood high enough where grown men had to lean their heads back to grab a gaze. His enormous body was completely enveloped in a terribly dark green. The color was so heavy his face was camoflagued underneath. His eyes were seperate glass cases that sheltered no signs of emotion within them. Together they were a paradox with attention undivided from the figure of scarlet grey that stood in front of them.

Without hesitation they fled into conflict.

**xxxx**

There was no time for comprehension, nor the time for reaction. The second he was able to feel of the gust of wind slash against his face, before he could even hear the devastation that shook the earth beneath him, the defenseless robot was swept off his feet by an unspeakable force. He plowed into the ground face first tumbling repeatedly. Despite the shock of being smashed into the ground, his initial reaction was to stand up as fast as possible. Although slightly dazed, he quickly rose to his feet to see the small pocket of dust clear to reveal two robots.

"The target -Protoman- has been confirmed. Commence operation."

The words that came from the tall ugly robot were completely monotone. The speech carried no emotion or personality.

"What do you want from me?" His question barely squeezed out of his stammering mouth, every inch of his body became immobile in a defensive helplessness. He wanted to run, but something kept him from acting on his instincts. It wasn't fear, but a dangerous curiosity that weighed him to the ground. They were here for him, that meant they knew who he was. Protoman?

"You know who I am don't you?" He stared down the robots that attacked him waiting for an answer. Instead of receiving a response, a blur of orange and white tore in his direction, and he got a flying kick in the gut. Instead of hitting the soft field of a grass like last time, his body flew aimlessly into the pavement. Shards of asphalt scattered in every direction, and his titanium body tumbled several times before coming to a painful halt. Every inch of his body was sore from the heavy impact he inflicted from the fall, but it was the robot's attack that disoriented him badly.

This wasn't the time, and defenitely not the right people to find any answers from. It wasn't hard for the nameless android to realize that they wanted him either destroyed, or at least pretty badly messed up. His back was against the ground, and a part of him just wanted to lay there motionless in hopes that the pain would somehow go away. He also knew that it would go away, because they would beat the life out of him. If these mindless robots knew who he was, then there were defenitely other people that had the same answers. With that in mind, he forced even further discomfot upon himself by getting back on his feet, knowing that he had to survive today in order to find anything at all.

As he stood up the second time, his eyes picked up the indistinct image of the massive sized android heading in his direction. The large android swung his monstrous fist in a downard motion, the blow would have hammered the already tender android into the earth had he not barely dodged it. Though he was stil in pain from the smaller robot's attack, he had regained his senses. For his large size, he was defenitely quick on his feet. Right after his missed initial attacked, he leapt with both hands out in front, most likely aimed to the neck of his target. His hands were intercepted by his opponent, and they found themselves in a power struggle.

The red and grey robot knew he was at a distinct disadvantage in this disposition. Surprisingly enough, he felt that his own strength was holding up, possibly even matching his much larger counterpart. Locked in place, both of their grips were hard enough to break through solid stone, but this got both of them nowhere. But before the red android could think of any good way out of the situation, he felt a terribly sharp pain in the center of his back. It was the feeling of a knee being drilled into his him. The attack had caused him to lose complete function of his limbs, but before he could drop to the ground, his arm was grabbed, and he was swung into the patch of woods he once called his home.

Now he couldn't move, things had gotten really bad. He couldn't find the strength to stand up, let alone win a fight between two robots. He had only enough power in his legs to push himself against a tree. His right arm was completely immobile, and fighting back was no longer an option. He could feel his vision slowly phasing in and out of conciousness. He wasn't sure if it were death he was experiencing, or merely passing out from the pain. None of that mattered however, his life was in their hands, and their hands wanted to do nothing more than break him in two. As the two robots drew closer to him, he was certain these images would be the last things he saw before he ceased to function. His eyes began to close forever, but before they could, a blinding flash of yellow completely overcame his senses. In that same instant, the flash faded into images of familiarity.

**xxxx**

"So you've almost completed him?"

_What's going on here? _

"That's right. This project will revolutionize the way that we as a civilization perceive robots."

_Who's this fat, bush-beard hovering over me?_

"You really think you did it, didn't you?"

_What's that irritating voice? _

"Not just me, we both did it. We've created true artificial intelligence. This robot will be capable of making his own choices in life. It's just up to us to show him the right way."

_Why can't I move? I wanna get out of here. _

"Have you given him a name?"

_Are they talking about me?_

"I've named him Protoman. A fitting name if I do say so myself."

_Why won't they just shut up!_

"I'm telling you Xavier. The names of Dr. Light, and Dr. Wily will be remembered forever as the two who changed the world forever."

_They can't even hear me._

"You just may be right."

**- **

**I'm doing my best to tie in to the original Mega Man story, whilst at the same time bringing my own original plot ideas into the mix. I think I'm doing not half bad at it so far. As you could guess, I don't use the name Rockman, or Blues or whatever. It's just that I grew up with these names so that's how I kept them American. **

**This chapter took me about four to five days to write. I just tore through the final action sequence and the final dialogue. I apologize if it gets hard to understand whose who when all three confront each other. I kept this story third person limited, so it wouldn't be right for Protoman to just all of a sudden know the names of the two robots attacking him, just identifying them as the small one and the large one. **

**Not much dialogue yet, but then again there wasn't much to say, they were tryin to kill the poor guy. I'm just gonna spend these last few minutes on thinking of a good chapter name... heh. **

**If you couldn't guess from before, I like to end each part with my favorite line of the chapter. Kinda weird I guess, it was somewhat inspired by the Fullmetal Alchemist anime. **

**If all he could do was watch the world like it rolled off a projector screen onto the wall, how could he be one of its characters? **


	3. Chapter 3 Make Me Invisible

**Good to see people are still paying attention to me. Third chapter is finally done, and it's the largest one so far. It's amazing how much easier it is to fill up a page when you put in dialogue. Probly the hardest thing about writing this chapter was coming up with a title for it. That and the editing, I did a whole lot more editing on this chapter than any of the previous two, so hopefully that will show. **

**In regards to people anticipating the complete ownage version of Protoman, I'm not exactly sure if his character will grow to that point in this story, but then again maybe he will. I love the Protoman's badass streak as much as anyone else, but it's been done with just every fic based on him. The way I'm writing him up isn't necessarily OOC, but it's a different way to look at him. **

**With that said I'll do my best to bring Protoman's awesomeness to light, but at the right time. Until then, I hope you enjoy the chapter.  
-  
**

**Chapter 3 - Make Me Invisible**

_ Have I died? If that's the case, then it's pretty ironic since I've been granted with so much clarity. My name is Protoman. I was created by two men named Dr. Wily, and Dr. Light. For some reason I was something special to them. But I guess that's not an issue anymore being dead. Instead I have all the time in the world to think. Thinking about why I decided to run away, and why I was lucky enough to be attacked by two robots. Wait a minute, I'm a robot, how can I think while I'm dead? Oh man, am I just talking to myself?_

The whispers echoing through the dark nothingness were nothing more than a conciousness fading back into the real world. Feelings of embarrasment had consumed him while he silently antagonized the unneccesary melodrama he narrated in his mind. In actuailty, the all encompassing voices were only his collective thoughts bouncing around in his own faded contemplation. He had eventually realized that he was regaining conciousness.

In spite of this, his subconcious monologue brought him answers to his who he was. His name was indeed Protoman as the two violent androids had announced. How he knew this he wasn't sure, but it most likely had something to do with the same programming and memory that allowed him to see the images of his past. The near-death experience somehow jarred open this previously closed door into his mind. It could have been the urgency of the situation, or maybe the fear of death that forced him into this realization.

Even with some of the answers, there still left more questions. Protoman didn't know where his home, -or more appropriately- his place of birth exactly was. While he knew the names of those that gave birth to him, he was still without purpose. All that was given to him by his creators was an unwanted sense of curiousity, a feeling of insecurity, and an ever growing sense of self-awareness of his own life. These traits manifested anxiety, fear, and dependancy. However, it seemed that the only people that knew him were looking to put him out of his misery.

With that thought Protoman had just remembered. Wasn't he in the middle of a fight with two robots? Well not much of a fight, he was being given the rag doll treatment. He could recall the feeling of being pounded into dust as if it were still happening to him. Strangely though, as he drifted into reality, the pain that radiated all over his body had dissapeared. The blistering sounds of conflict and battle were far off in the distance. For whatever reason, he found himself someplace new, and he was defenitely not complaining. Where he was however, was a completely different issue. In fact, he was caught up so much in his own head, he hadn't even opened his eyes.

Very slowly Protoman could feel his eyes begin to pry themselves ajar. He awoke to find himself lying down on a what seemed to be a moveable cot. Moving around, the squeeking of metal pieces that constructed the portable bed became audible. The room itself had very small dimensions, similar to that of a prison cell. But in contrast to that, the door leading outside was wide open. Nothing kept from just walking out the front exit that had been conveniently placed in front of him. Despite that, he felt no urgency to just set off from some unknown location, only to get further lost. Instead, his previous assault gave him a newfound appreciation for peace and quiet. He simply laid back down as he told himself, "Just a little bit longer."

His view from the bed he lay on up to the ceiling was unspeakably vivid, and the room was so bright he couldn't help but flinch a little from the illumination. There was defenitely something shady about this place. The white walls looked heavily eroded, as a corrosion of black mercilessly tore through them. There were no windows leading to the outside, instead just beaming flourescent lights, bright beyond necessity.

He lifted his arms up in order to place them behind his head, but then simultaneously became startled at the fact that both of them were working. The condition of his right arm had gone from previously incapacitated to fully functional. All of the internal alarms that he remembered ringing in his head were now gone, and his mind was no longer the bedlam of distress and panic it had been. He had obviously been repaired, by whom was the real mystery.

"Maybe those two robots felt bad after beating the crap out of me." A slight smile crept upon Protoman's face from his bit of sarcasm.

"Someone that can smile at their own near death experience must have an incredible sense of humor, or just a very strange one." The reply of a middle age man came from the doorway, and it caused Protoman to quickly sit up. In front of him stood the man that spoke, sporting a leather jacket with imitation fur outlining the borders.

"What I find even more fascinating is your ability to create independent statements without provocation or initiation, by simply accessing your memory. You're not an ordinary android now are you?" The tone of the man's voice changed to an innocent type of intrigue as he continued to stare at the figure of crimson juxtaposed on gray. Already defensive to the strange man standing before him, he didn't appreciate the way he was looking at him.

"Your fascination doesn't really help my comfort, so if you don't mind stop gawking at me like an art project."

"Oh of course. I apologize for my indecency, you musn't be very keen on all of the attention you seem to be receiving. Might I ask your name?"

Protoman hesitated slightly before answering the man. "Maybe you should tell me who you are first."

"Who me? I'm merely a curious doctor trying to spark up a conversation with a very interesting android." His cheeful manner didn't change Protoman's untrusting attitude.

"In that case, I'm merely a robot whose through with putting up with the curious. Both human and non-human."

The tension was grossly indefeinite. With all that Protoman had been through in the first few days of his short life, he felt it necessary to be blunt and to the point. It was obvious from his previous altercation that he had enemies for whatever reason. The self-proclaimed doctor had picked up on his disposition, and found it necessary to accustom to the wary robot.

"I'm sorry, my attitude is uncalled for. Honestly, I happened to be within the vicinity of your unfortunate turn of events."

"So, you were a witness to that?"

"Absolutely. Who do you think got you out of that situation in one piece?" Protoman gave the old man a stupified stare. "Well, who's gawking at who now?" A light chuckle followed his rhetorical question.

"Are you serious? You're the one that saved me?"

"You don't believe me?"

"More like I don't believe it. No offense old man, those machines weren't messing around, and you don't look very loaded for bare."

"Fortunately I don't need to be with this." From inside a pocket of his large leather jacket came a strange looking device. It was colored a very cloudy silver, with a hole sticking out the end of it. On the other end of the machine, there were a series of metal pieces that ran across the device, the design allowing it to be fastened securely on his arm.

"This mechanism allows me to summon pure energy in a highly destructive form. The yellow blast of light is capable of reducing even hardened titanium to shards of metal. Needless to say this is what kept both of us from getting killed."

Protoman was grateful that the old guy pointed "whatever the hell it was" towards the ground. He concluded that to be the source of the flash that he saw before blacking out, and judging from its description, it would be the last flash of light he would ever see if that thing fired at him.

The old man didn't continue speaking, leaving room for Protoman to say something, but instead followed an uncomfortable silence. Two complete strangers now stood between a wall of informality. As far as the still defensive android was concerned, there wasn't much to say. Despite that, Protoman was still able to muster some words.

"You're a doctor, a robotic engineer I guess?" The old man nodded in confirmation.

"In that case, I guess I should thank you. You did all of this right?" Protoman visually enhanced his question by waving his now functional right arm in front of the doctor's face.

"I did. However I don't think you should thank me just yet. Though I did repair your arm to the best of my abilities, I doubt your still in an optimal condition. Your design is unlike any other robot I've come across, because of that, any type of repairs I would do on you would probably not be complete. It would be in your best interest that you revise the repairs on your arm yourself."

"Myself? Look, I don't know what you think I'm capable of, but as of right now I can barely remember my first day alive. I highly doubt that I'll be able to do any kind of repairs on myself." Protoman swung his legs around as he completed his sentence, and slid off of the small bed, finally standing on his two feet once more. As he continued to rotate and revolved both of his arms, he could feel some inconsistencies between the two of them.

"You shouldn't worry. Every robot created acquires data that allows self-reparation. While your mind is that of a highly advanced processing computer, I'm assuming that it's still in its infancy. It's highly possible that your mind is still rebooting. You've been slowly regaining your memories, and incomplete data haven't you?" Protoman didn't disagree with the doctor's diagnosis.

"You will be fully able to completely access your memory in due time. Until then, just be patient, and make yourself at home here if you wish."

"You're really going out of your way to help me out here." Protoman was beginning to grow a bit more comfortable around the man, but an aura of mystery and suspicion remained. The kindness and compassion was unprovoked, and altruism was a concept far from his mind.

"I must be honest with you. I do have a slight agenda myself." The doctor's statement was somewhat coy, but the message got through to Protoman as he could see in his eyes the childlike intrigue he brought out in him.

"That's right, I'm fascinating."

"Please don't take it the wrong way. But you must realize by now, you're unique from any other robot that's ever been created."

"I do realize it. I also realize that this has also brought me nothing but trouble." Protoman started walking out of the room past the strange man, but then stopped in his tracks.

"Nonetheless, I appreciate your help. In regards to your first question, my name is Protoman." He looked at the doctor as he smiled to his answer. Protoman didn't return the smile, but instead acknowledged it with a nod.

"And you?"

"Dr. Emilio Torres."

**-**

**The chapter title is from a lyric of a song by AFI called "Of Greetings and Goodbyes."**

**Character development is starting to take place. So is dialogue, hopefully I'm doing ok with that. This chapter I put the most time into obviously because of all of the revising I did to it. I want to my narration to be as high quality as possible. **

**The pace and progression of the story is going well as far as I'm concerned. I don't think this story will grow larger than ten chapters, the hard part will be making proper road map to the already decided conclusion I have for this story. I have many ideas to continue this overall universe outside of "Decisions," another short story like my first, and maybe longer books like this one. However it's best I don't get ahead of myself, I'll just go to sleep right now, lay out the foundation for Chapter 4.**

Oh man, am I just talking to myself?


	4. Chapter 4 Reparations

**It's creeping up on two months since I have added a chapter to this story. Whether it be good or bad, this is without a doubt the largest chapter in this story. It wasn't without great inner conflict that it took all I had to finally put this chapter up. To tell the truth, this chapter was all but done about 3 weeks ago. However I felt my story development was weak, and with that I added... and added. I hoped to create another chapter previous to this one but it lacked any cohesion whatsoever. It came to the point where I wasn't sure how to conclude this story. I even thought it wasn't worth while continuing. However that time has passed. I took bits and pieces to keep the story rolling, and you have what you see before you. Needles to say I'm back, and the Shaded and Shielded universe will live past this story. But first things first. Enjoy the chapter. **

**----------------**

**Chapter 4- Reparations**

It turned out the laboratory that Dr. Torres operated out of was his own little piece of heaven located adjacently to a robotic junkyard. Discarded parts of robots formerly functioning would find themselves in this metallic wasteland. On some level it might seem like crude, but it was a very ingenious if not shameless method of having access to several resources. Granted, the doctor was only confined to whatever arrived in the junkyard, but it didn't look like the doctor had the financial capabilities of getting whatever he wanted, and this method was definitely economically sound.

Protoman continued to sift through the many metal pieces, in his particular case, his options were limited. Anything that wasn't titanium couldn't be used. His body was built with titanium, a very durable substance. Although the doctor did his best to repair Protoman's arm, he had ended up using some steel in order to hasten the repair process. Unlike steel, titanium was a metal not so easily found in a junkyard. However there were exceptions, and he capitalized upon them.

The doctor was right about Protoman's memory. In the past thirty-six hours his fragmented memory began piecing itself together. In fact it had progressed to the point which he left confident enough to attempt to fully repair his damaged arm. His natural life had only consisted of a few days, so there weren't many of those memories to try and recall. What stood out in his mind most of all were the two towering figures that he remembered towering over him as he subconsiously witnessed his own construction.

Little by little he began to recreate the scenery. One of them was a big round old guy with a fluffly white beard consuming most of his face. He was pretty sure that was Dr. Light. The second man was another old man named Dr. Wily. In contrast to his counterpart he was balding, and gray-haired, with a jagged razor-like beard. What Protoman recalled most of all was the thick accent that tore through the air.

There was the option to go back to the two doctors that had created him, but such a decision could definitely create problems. First off, he didn't even remember the location of his birthplace. Unfortunately taking a mental note to actually remember where he was had not been a priority for him at the time. Secondly, he was still wary to bring himself to anyone at the moment. His meeting with Dr. Torres was that of unwanted necessity. What his creators wanted with him he had no idea, as far as he knew, they were the responsible for the two robots that tried to destroy or recollect him, perhaps even both.

But for now his next step wasn't what was important, and getting all sucked up in anxiety would accomplish nothing. Protoman had to deal with the task at hand, which was repairing himself. With the necessary parts all gathered, he exited the robotic disposal area, and headed back to his temporary place of residence. Personally he wanted to make it as temporary as possible.

**xxxx**

It was clear as day that the friction had already been placed in between the two. Protoman's responses and psyche was so umistakibly human, untrusting, reserved, and paranoid. But with Torres playing the role of the kind polite old man, it gave no reason for Protoman to hold any more suspicions he already had. In fact his act held up beautifully. If he weren't such a brilliant robotic engineer, he would have tried his hand at the stage.

A day had passed since the doctor had first met Protman. Torres had been quick to get to work on Protoman right when he returned to his laboratory. Getting Protoman's arm functioning again proved to be relatively easy. The more important, more difficult task that needed to be completed was the collection of Protoman's data before he came to. The great haste that Torres worked in allowed him to collect information he needed to continue his work with time to spare. For the moment things were continuing according to plan. However that didn't leave the doctor without a very pleasant surprise. When he began to repair Protoman's damaged arm, he came upon the most remarkable device that even he had to credit the red android's creator. While It was definitely something that couldn't be overlooked, he had show patience. There was too much to be done to be diverted.

Protoman was in the junkyard, searching for the proper pieces to repair his arm. At that point the second part of the doctor's overall project was underway. The red helmet was the most important part of his project, the key that would tie everything together. But the longer he worked on it, more and more problems resulted. What Torres hadn't counted on was the difficulty in constructing the compatibility between the helmet and Protoman. Holding the round metallic object in his hands, he knew he had fallen behind is schedule. On top of that, he sensed the restlessness in the red android. His human tendencies were exponentially growing.

He picked up his plasma cannon, and began to dissassemble it. The work and augmentations wouldn't take long, but there would be no telling his measures would be accurate. With no other choice left, Torres had to take a risk in losing everything he worked to acquire. Moments later his ears detected heavy footsteps approaching, he quickly fumbled his weapon aside and, and continued to work on his helmet.

**xxxx **

Dr. Torres had been working on a new project himself. As far as he could tell it was merely a helmet in the color of red, with the a white outline on the rim of the forehead. On the end of the white tip of the helmet resided a very translucent black piece of durable plastic. Whatever else it was, Protoman didn't bother to ask. Both of them were occupppied with their own tasks, so there was no need to get all nosy in each other's business. He had grown more trustworthy of Torres, however Protoman still kept up his walls.

"I hope you were able to find everything you need."

"There's enough material around here to repair me five times over." Protoman held a large container filled with assorted robotic parts.

"Yes, as humble as this place may be, it should have everything you require." There was slight shame in his expression.

"There's nothing wrong with this place. As if it were my concern to begin with." The engineer then smiled at Protoman in appreciation.

"This should be enough. I'm going to have to borrow that room over there for a little while."

"Feel free. But do are you sure you're ready to go through repairing yourself?" Protoman shrugged his shoulders, but didn't seem to be concerned with the question.

"The fragments in my memory are starting to come together. I think I'll be just fine. Besides, I won't know for sure unless I give it a shot." Protoman was already one foot in the door before the Torres cut in once more.

"Protoman, one more thing I'd like to ask you."

"What is it?"

"When you're done, I'd like to talk with you." Protoman didn't like where the request was going.

"Talk about what?"

"I'd just like to learn a little more about you, that's all."

Protoman knew that the good Doctor would of inevitably tried to dive into his head. There was too much about him that was so peculiar and unanswered to not provoke the interest of a scientist. Despite all of this, the look of utter displeasure remained on Protoman's face. Any other time Torres tried to address him he'd gently and hold back, like he was treating Protoman with kid gloves. But in this circumstance, the expression on his face held no hesitation.

"You really couldn't let this go could you?"

"I'm a scientist, it's in my nature to try and find answers, but you already know that."

"That doesn't mean I wanted to hear it. Look, I appreciate the all the help you've given me up to this point. I even appreciate that you're not trying to hide your intentions with some false altruism. But to be perfectly honest, I didn't agree to anything. And right about now I see no reason to."

"I know this can't be easy for you, and I'm not intentionally trying to make things any more difficult for you."

"You're not? Well then I can't imagine what you're capable of when you really put your mind to it." Dr. Torres paid no heed to Protoman's interruption.

"Regardless of your discontent, the fact of the matter is I've stuck my neck out for you more than once, and I feel you owe me this much." His words were absolutely blunt and unwaivering. A tone that Protoman hadn't yet experienced in the brief time he knew Dr. Torres.

Trying in vain to completely dismiss Dr. Torres, he unwillingly acknowledged the facts at hand. While he didn't like where he was coming from, Protoman couldn't just ignore everything he's done for him. Putting his own life at risk to save his own, and even going out of his own way to try and repair him. It would be so easy to reject him and just leave, but there was something inside him the prevented him from acting so irrationally. His initial defiance and selfish disposition broke down to an unknown desire to equalize the situation. Stupid, stupid logic.

Initially Protoman didn't respond, and instead carried his supplies into the small room. Dr. Torres fleetingly called out to him one last time.

"Protoman-"

"I don't think this is gonna be very easy for me, it'll probably take all day. Let me just make sure I can get this done." Protoman paused, not wanting to finish his sentence. "And tomorrow morning, I'll let you pick at my head all you want. Deal?"

Dr. Torres looked very pleased, and gleefully nodded in response. With their final exchange complete, Protoman walked in the room and closed the door behind him.

**xxxx**

He had no idea what Torres was up to, or whether or not he finished what he was working on. There had been no interruptions, no unnecessary knocks with a, "Protoman are you OK?", or anything else equally pointless. For that he was very appreciative. Since he agreed to carry a conversation with the Doc he probably decided to leave him alone for the rest of the day. He didn't know what he was up to now, but he really didn't care at the moment.

Hours had passed, and the sky was already dark. Protoman had worked well through the day right into the night time. The process wasn't easy at all, but he was managing to get through it regardless. Subliminally accessing his memories was as natural as walking in stride, and the schematics of his arm photographically formed in his mind. All of the internal work had been completed. He just finished soldering all of the wires, and he successfully replaced all of the obsolete metals with good Titanium, or good enough at least.

He held his now detached arm in his hand. Staring at it, he was amazed he was even able to repair the stupid thing at all. All that remained was to get the arm back on the rest of his body. He placed it on the edge of the table and Protoman pulled up a chair as to properly position himself to begin the reattachment. Unfortunately before he could even begin the process of reattaching his arm, it fell to the floor. Two more times the slapstick like routine continued. After a bit of frustration and persistence, Protoman marveled at his own idiocy.

"As stupid as it sounds, I didn't think about how hard it would be doing this one handed."

Finally he was able to get his annoying claw on the table without any conflict from the forces of gravity. He took the extra large soldering iron and held it up to his robotic joint. The final stages of his reattachment would no doubt be the hardest. Making sure that every wire from his arm was correctly joined with the corresponding wire in his shoulder would be an extremely tedious process. Protoman was very methodical, taking extra special care. The last thing he needed to do was screw up, then all he'd have to show for all of his hard work would be some dead weight hanging from his right side.

Protoman could only stare as he pressed the unbridled flame against his titanium body parts showing no reaction to its immense heat. The blue color of the blaze made it apparent of the immense temperature the fire was burning at. Searing heat would be an uncomfortable feeling to say the least if he were human. Strangely, while he was more than capable of detecting physical contact with other objects, the sensation of pain was completely oblivious to him. It was a half-hearted sense of touch that an android must have been blessed with.

As he completed the wiring he started regaining control of his detached arm. Protoman's fingers tenderly bent in and out of his palm, and his forearm moved freely from his elbow just as well. Before doing anything else drastic, getting his arm back in his shoulder socket stood paramount. Very carefully he pushed his arm into the hollow joint, and securely fastend the arm. From there he swung his good as new limb to and fro feeling quite proud. He finally finished.

Now he had to prepare going to Torres first thing in the morning, keeping his end of the agreement. A familiar conflict arose in his head. The impulse to return the doctor's favors grew strong, but Protoman's defiant spirit became even more resilient. Waging a war inside his own head was an unpleasant experience. For every step forward Protoman wanted to take, his leg would gorw even heavier. If there were any casualties, it were the precious minutes that slipped away, decreasing his window of exit. Slowly the inner turbulence faded and clarity began to illuminate upon him. There was only one conclusion he could accept on all levels of his own existence, he wouldn't be forced into anything he didn't want to do.

The first sight of dawn was well away by a few hours. Protoman quiety stepped out of his personal little space. The doctor was nowhere to be seen, but the door of the room in the far corner of the laboratory was closed. That was Torres's bedroom, and it was safe to assume he was well asleep. In quiet stride he made sure his metallic baby steps made as little noise as possible. He stared at the workstation only to find the doctor's little device no longer there. The door was a crack open, making Protoman's departure a bit easier as he gently pulled the door a little more open, and worked his body around the exit. He decided not to close door, if that was how Torres wanted the door he could at least keep it that way.

The first step out of the door was Protoman's last. The expression of his face was frozen, simply hoping that his eyes were betraying him. He could only comfort himself in denial for so long, only to realize what was in front of him. In the shadow of the night stood an all too familiar silhouette of intimidation. It's massive influence couldn't be mistaken, because it was the last thing Protoman's eyes saw before he thought they had closed forever.

"Why the hell are you here?" There was no response from the obstacle in front of him, but instead from behind came a familiar voice.

"He's here because I told him to be here." It became all to obvious to Protoman. There was nothing left for him but to fall victim to whatever he had walked into.

"It was all you-"

Before Protoman could say anything more, he felt a surge of electricity go into his back and run through his entire body. Within an instant he collapsed to the ground. He could feel himself going through convulsions in response to the electric shot. There was no critical damage to his systems, but it left his whole body in a state of paralysis. He wasn't even able to lift his head from the pavement.

"Gallium, take him back in the laboratory, I still have work to do."

"Right away Dr. Torres."

His eyes left the pavement as he was lifted by the giant android the doctor called Gallium. He wanted to scream from the top of his lungs, and wail his limbs, but only silence resulted. Helplessness led to panic. Too many things were happening, Protoman could barely comprehend what he had gotten himself into. His future now rested in the hands of a android that had previously tried to kill him, and a man he knew nothing about.

**-------------**

**Now that everything is in full motion, the pace will hopefully increase. There's not too much more of this story to tell, but I will tell it as best as I can. Unfortunately school is a heavy factor, so expect an update in a couple of weeks. I'll try to avoid the monthly updates from now on.**

**"As stupid as it sounds, I didn't think about how hard it would be doing this one handed."**


End file.
